Crestone

Let me tell you about the town called Crestone. It’s in the San Luis Valley of southern Colorado. My sisters, who live there, have different views and will most likely disagree with what I say. We’ll see.

Driving up and over Poncha Pass opens my eyes to the beautiful valley.  I can’t usually put into words how it makes me feel.. almost like coming home. More on that later. Lush trees and foliage disappear as you make your way onto the plains. Dry, dusty earth barely allows any growth. Open space for miles in front of you, few trees and even less buildings. Scattered here and there are farms thriving off of springs, trees and vegetation lining the slightly damp earth. To the right, or west, are the San Juan Mountain range far off and in the distance, but still impressive. To the left, or east, the Sangre De Cristos shoot up out of the tumbleweeds like giant rock demons escaping the underworld before being frozen in time by the Gods. It is at the foot of these monsters that the little town of Crestone flourishes, even when it shouldn’t.  People from all walks of life call this place home. From Buddhists to devout Christians to the hippies that Boulder rejected.

A little history, for those that might be interested.  Crestone is a small mining town of about 90 people. Until the early 70’s most residents were without plumbing and electricity.  A woman recently gifted with large amounts of land decided to bring religion to the obvious heathens. Wanting to create a melting pot of followers, she gave pieces of property to Buddhists (Tibetan and Zen) Carmelites, Sai Ma, Shu Mei, Hindis, and some others that I cannot remember at the moment. Each one used the land as they saw fit, building shrines to deities and creating welcoming places for the masses I am sure they thought would come.  I have yet to peruse the different shrines and centers. I’ll be sure to post on that when I do.  Last visit I was able to make a trip up to the Stupa there. The big one. It’s amazing. When I remember the name of it I’ll post it.

Just outside Crestone is the Baca Grande Subdivision. A 500 acre area of subdivisions and grants. Keep in mind this is not your normal subdivision, not even close to a mountain suburb. Unless you count the gaudy displays of wealth and prestige mixed with eclectic rock gardens boasting colorful gnomes, disabled vehicles and retired school buses acting as an addition to a 1960’s airstream mobile home. Monasteries and sacred buildings litter the mountain side. Colorful prayer flags wave lazily in the breeze throughout the area. One home boasts a wall of televisions and straw bales. He calls this work of art “10 good things to do with a TV.”

Alternative building and state of the art buildings litter the subdivision.  Brave new ideas using recylced materials seems to be the norm.  Saving the earth is a part of every ones life out here. My sister and her husband have two businesses, one dealing with dirt and the other energy. Mudcrafters Construction is all about using natural or green materials to build your home, such as straw bale or adobe flooring.   NewGen Energy provides people with renewable energy systems, such as solar or wind.  Their home, when finished, will use only renewable energy.  Fascinating.

People from all walks of life roam the streets of Crestone. Walking by the now closed liquor store a woman might wave at you. The wave is enthusiastic, even though she doesn’t know you. Carefully watch the underarm, the growth of hair there could set world records. In Curts, the local market, be wary. Eye contact might win you a hug with a stranger. A stranger that hasn’t bathed in god knows how long. Avoid this at all costs, as the body odor can somehow transfer itself to you like an unwanted cologne from the JC Penny salesperson. Dreadlocks are abundant, as is the no ‘no diaper technique’- where the baby never wears a diaper. The mom just holds the baby over the sink or toilet every 20 minutes. I wouldn’t want to go on a car ride with them. Lesbians are very welcome, in fact the last town mayor was one. As far as I know there is only one gay man, he must be very lonely….

 Just outside of town, there is a trailer park. Looks pretty normal, until you look into the homes. Just driving by and peeking in the windows you can see altars to Buddha on one wall and Christ on his crucifix on the other. Only here in Crestone can you believe in both and it’s totally ok.

Then there is the campground. Where you can find old school busses, bright silver airstreams and RV’s older than my parents. all trying to stay warm through the winter with the ‘free’ electricity that is offered. One of these days they are going to catch the straw bales under the trailers on fire…. I don’t even know if there is water there, and you sure wouldn’t know it by the people calling it home.

All throughout Crestone and the Baca, there is one common thing. A sense of wanting to make the world a better place. But how they go about it is totally different. I wonder the things they might accomplish should they actually agree on something.